A Mysterious Disappearance

by Louis Tracy

  CHAPTER XXX

  SIR CHARLES DYKE ENDS HIS NARRATIVE

  "A mere suspicion, indeed!" she said, and there was that in her voicewhich warned me that I had better try unarmed to control a tigress thana wife who deemed herself wronged; "these are pretty _suspicions_ thatsurround you. A house tenanted by another woman where you are evidentlymaster! A mistress who left the ranks of the ballet, or something of thesort, living in luxury on means supplied by you! A married woman whocasts off her husband with her poverty, to take up a paramour andriches! Do you think you can blind my eyes further? I have the mostconvincing proofs of your infamy. Do not imagine that on any speciouspretext I will condone your conduct. I despise you from the depths of myheart. Henceforth I will strive to forget your very existence."

  "Alice," I said, and if she had not been blinded by passion she musthave been affected by my earnestness, "will you listen to me?"

  "Why should I? What respect have you shown to me that I should now seemeven to accept your excuses?"

  "I appeal to you not to do anything in anger. You have good reason to beenraged with me. I only ask you to suspend your final judgment. Hearwhat I have to say, take time for deliberation, for further inquiry, andthen condemn me to any punishment you think fit."

  She did not answer me. Her eyes were roving round the room and takingstock of every indication of poor Mrs. Hillmer's artistic aptitude. Theplace was eminently home-like, much more so than our elegant mansion inPortman Square, and my wife noted the fact with momentarily increasingbitterness. Yet I essayed my desperate task with failing nerve andterrible consciousness of a bad cause.

  "Notwithstanding all that you have seen and heard," I said, "I am notguilty of the crime you accuse me of. Mrs. Hillmer is an old friend ofmine, whom I have helped from a state of misery to one of comfort andcomparative happiness. She is as pure-minded in thought, as spotless incharacter, as you are yourself. You are doing her a grievous injusticeby doubting the relations between her and me. If you only knew her--"

  My wife laughed scornfully.

  "Pray spare yourself, Charles. I have never seen you so interestedbefore, but you lie badly, nevertheless."

  "I do not lie. Before heaven I am telling you the truth."

  "You are even willing to perjure yourself, _Colonel Montgomery_?"

  My poor armor was ill-fitted for this stroke. I suppose I must haveflinched before it, for she went on:

  "You see I am well posted. My detectives have done their work well. Oh,Heaven, that I should ever have learned to love a vile wretch like you.I thought you respected me, at least. I tried hard to bend my own wishesto sympathy with yours, and I dreamt even of ultimate success. I knewyou didn't care much for me, but the devotion of a slave has at timesbeen rewarded by the affection of her master. Fortunately, I am a slaveby choice. It only required experience to break my bonds, and you havesupplied the experience."

  For the first time in my life did it dawn on me that my self-containedand haughty wife harbored other thoughts than a sentiment of respect foran indulgent and easily controlled husband. It was a shock to me, adeeper humiliation than she dreamed of. How could I expiate the past,wipe out this record of error and folly, but not of ill-doing, and livehappily with her so long as Providence was pleased to spare us? Whilethese things ran through my brain she suddenly turned on me.

  "You fear exposure in the law courts! You dread your name figuring in asociety scandal! How little you know me. You naturally compare me byyour own contemptible standard. I left your house to-night determinednever to return to it should I find you here, as in all probability, Iwas told, would be the case. I will go to my sister until I havedetermined upon my future life. You, at least, will never, by my desire,see or hear from me again. Thus far, I presume, I will fall in with yourviews."

  She would have passed me, but I held fast to the inside of the door. Ifonce she got away from me I might never be able to set affairs eventolerably right. Better, I deemed, have one trying scene in the hopethat she would calm down in the face of facts, than allow her to carrythe quarrel to her relatives and strengthen her attitude by theirnatural support.

  "Alice," I said, "you shall not go."

  "How can you dare to detain me?" she shrieked, and the glint in her eyesshowed how thoroughly her passions were aroused.

  "You can separate from me if you will. I shall not venture to hinderyou. But I swear you shall not do this rash act without knowledge. Itell you you must remain here. When you leave this house you do so in mycompany."

  "And why am I to be kept a prisoner?"

  "Mrs. Hillmer will return in less than an hour. You have sought thismeeting yourself. Very well. You shall have it. When your charges havebeen thoroughly thrashed out in the presence of Mrs. Hillmer and myselfI will then accompany you where you will, and leave you under theprotection of your sister, or any one else you choose, should you stillpersist in leaving me."

  Of course my action was unwise to the last degree. But remember, Claude,that during these last awful five minutes I had seen a side of my wife'snature hidden from me six long years. And I was a man suddenly plungedinto a raging sea, drifting helplessly I knew not whither. All thatconsumed me was a wild desire for such scant justice as I deserved. Ihad erred, but my faults were not those my wife alleged against me.

  If she was angry before she was now absolutely uncontrollable.

  "What?" she screamed. "Remain to meet your--your mistress? Never, whileI have life!"

  She flung herself upon me so suddenly that she tore me away from thedoor. She was a strong and athletic woman, and I suppose she expectedsome resistance, for she used such force as to drag me forward into themiddle of the room, overturning a chair in the effort. I was so utterlytaken by surprise that I yielded to her violence more completely thanshe expected.

  She staggered, let go her hold, and fell heavily backwards, trippingover the fallen chair. I made a desperate attempt to save her, but onlycaught the end of a fur necklet, and it tore like a spider's web.

  Her body crashed against a Venetian fender, and her head came with awfulforce against a sort of support for the fire-irons that stood up a footfrom the ground.

  Then she rolled over, her eyes and face undergoing a ghastly change, andinstantly became, as I thought, unconscious.

  I knelt beside her, raising her head with my right hand, and brokenlybesought her to speak to me, when I would at once do anything shedemanded. But she gave no sign of animation. In a frenzy of despair, Iforced myself to examine her injuries, and my heart nearly stoppedbeating when I discovered that a large piece of iron had been driveninto her brain through the back of her head.

  I knew in a moment that she was dead. Although I have not had muchexperience of that terrible epoch in the human being, I have seen fartoo much of death in animal life not to know that she who had been myhonored and respected wife now lay before me a mere soulless entity--asymbol only of the splendid vital creature who, a minute earlier, wasangrily protesting against the supposed faithlessness of her mate.

  Looking back now upon the events of that fateful night, I marvel at theappalling coolness which came to my aid as soon as I realized the extentof the misfortune which had befallen both Alice and myself. I can fullyunderstand what is meant by the callousness of a certain class ofcriminals, or the indifference to inevitable death betrayed by Easternraces. No sooner was I quite assured that my wife was dead--dead beyondhope or doubt--than I regained the use of my reasoning faculties in themost marvellously cold-blooded degree.

  The actual difficulties of my position were enormous. I arraigned myselfbefore the judge and jury, and saw clearly that every circumstancewhich contributed to Alice's suspicions in the first instance were nowmagnified a hundred-fold by the manner and scene of her death.

  Before me, in ghostly panorama, moved the dread crowd of witnessesagainst me, the degradation of my family, the bitter and vengefulfeelings of my wife's relatives, the suffering of poor, unconscious Mrs.Hillmer, the whole avalanche of horror and m
isery which this unfortunateaccident had precipitated upon every person who claimed my relationshipor friendship.

  My mental attitude was quite altruistic. Could I have undone the past, Iwould cheerfully have undergone a painful and protracted deathforthwith.

  But no possible atonement on my part would restore Alice to life. I knewit was quite improbable that I should be convicted of murdering her,strong as the circumstantial testimony against me must be. The merelegal consequences did not, however, weigh with me for a second. Fromthat awful hour I felt that I was doomed personally. My only thought wasto seek oblivion, not only for myself, but for all whom Alice's deathmight affect.

  Reasoning in this way, I rapidly resolved to make a bold effort toconceal forever the time and place of the fatality. If I failed, I couldtell the truth; if I succeeded, I might, at my own expense, save a vastamount of unnecessary sorrow.

  The desperate expedient came to me of carrying off the body to theuntenanted house at Putney where my old master had resided until hisdeath, utilizing the four-wheeled cab with its half-drunken driver forthe purpose.

  If I reached Putney unhindered, I could dispose of my terrible burdeneasily, for the river flowed past the grounds, and every inch of thelocality was known to me.

  It occurred to me that perhaps the body might be found and recognized.Our personal linen was never marked, by reason of the fact that ourlaundry work was done upon our Yorkshire estate, but as a temporarysafeguard I resolved to take some different and less valuable outerclothes from Mrs. Hillmer's residence.

  Her maid was of a similar build to my wife, so I hastened to the girl'sroom, and laid hands upon a soiled coat and skirt which were relegatedto the recesses of the wardrobe.

  I glanced at my watch as I came along the corridor. It was 6.15 P.M. Allthe incidents I have related to you had happened within a quarter of anhour. Oh, heaven! it seemed longer than all the preceding years of mylife.

  Having resolved upon a line of conduct, I pursued it with the_sang-froid_ and accuracy of one of the superior scoundrels delineatedby Du Boisgobey. The door of the flat was locked. If the servants,hardly due yet, returned unexpectedly, I would send them off to VictoriaStation on some imaginary errand of their mistress's.

  I knelt beside my poor wife's body once more, and with great difficultytook off her costume and loosely fastened on the maid's garments.

  In her purse there were some bulky documents, which I afterwardsdiscovered to be the reports furnished by a firm of private detectives,detailing all my movements with reference to Raleigh Mansions withsurprising accuracy. But she had concealed her name. These menthemselves only knew me as "Colonel Montgomery."

  How Alice first came to suspect me I can only guess. Perhaps myindifference, my absence from home at definite hours, a chance meetingin the street unknown to me--any of these may have supplied the initialcause, and led her to verify her doubts before taxing me with mysupposed iniquity.

  Indeed, her final act in coming alone to Mrs. Hillmer's abode, revealedher fearless spirit and independent methods. She wanted no divorce courtrevelations. She would simply have spurned me as an unworthy anddishonorable wretch. Her small belongings I put in my pockets; theclothes I made into a parcel and stuffed temporarily beneath myovercoat.

  Then I unlocked the door, and went down the few steps to the mainentrance. There was no one about, the fog and sleet having cleared thestreet--a quiet thoroughfare at all times.

  I took the risk of the maids coming back, and I ran to the square for myconveyance. The driver had been improving the occasion, and was moreinebriated than before. He brought his cab to the door, and I knew, bythe appearance of things, that no one had entered during my absence.

  With some difficulty I lifted Alice's body into my arms in as natural aposition as possible, and carried her to the cab, leaving the door ofthe flat ajar. Luck still favored me. The cabman supposed that she, likehimself, was intoxicated. A man came down the opposite side of thestreet, but he paid not the slightest heed to me, and, indeed, we werebut dimly visible to each other.

  Exerting all my strength unobtrusively, I placed my wife on the rearseat, and then calmly gave the driver instructions. He grumbled at thedistance, but I told him I would pay him handsomely. Searching in mypockets and Alice's purse, I could only find twelve shillings, so,although it was risky, to avoid a quarrel with the man, I determined togive him a five-pound note.

  Thus far, all had gone well.

  The notion possessed me that, to all intents and purposes, I hadmurdered my wife, and that I was now disposing of the visible signs ofmy guilt in the most approved manner of a daring criminal. Whether I didright or wrong I cannot, even at this late hour, decide. Should my deathinduce forgetfulness, I am still inclined to think that I acted for thebest. My wife was dead; I was self-condemned. Why, then, allow others,wholly innocent, to be dragged into the vortex?

  This was my line of thought. If you, reading this ghastly narrative,shudder at my deeds, I pray you nevertheless to weigh in the balance thegood and ill that resulted from my actions.

  At last we reached Putney, and drew up at the end of the disused lanewhich runs down by the side of the house to the river.

  Here, again, the road was deserted. I lifted my wife out, carried her tothe postern-gate, and returned to give the driver his note. The man wasso amazed at the amount that he whipped up his horse instantly, fearinglest I should change my mind.

  I was about to force open the old and rickety door into the garden whenI remembered the drain-pipe jutting into the Thames--a place where, as achild, I often caused much alarm by surreptitious visits for the purposeof catching minnows. I quickly took off my coat and boots, turned up mytrousers and shirt-sleeves, and examined the pipe with my hands.

  It exactly suited my purpose. In half a minute I had firmly wedged mywife's body beneath it. This was the most horrible portion of my task.The chill water, the desolation of the river bank, the mud and trailingweeds--all these things seemed so vile and loathsome when placed incontact with the mortal remains of my ill-fated Alice.

  She had loved me. I believe I loved her, as I assuredly do now when herpresence is but a memory, yet I was condemned to commit her to thecontaminating beastliness of such surroundings. It was a small matter,in the face of death, but it has weighed on me since more than any otherfeature of that cruel night's history.

  Before leaving Putney I tied her clothes, hat, and furs to a couple ofheavy stones and threw the parcel into deep water.

  By train and cab I reached home but a few minutes late for dinner. Itwas not difficult for me to act my part with the servants, nor keep upthe farce during the weary days that followed. My consciousness was soseared by what I had gone through that the mere make-believe of myposition was a relief to me.

  That night, in the privacy of my room, I recollected the broken fender,and feared lest the ironwork would supply a clue should the body bediscovered, a thing I deemed practically impossible.

  But, for Mrs. Hillmer's sake, I took no risk. Next morning, before I sawyou at Tattersall's, I made arrangements for the whole contents of herdrawing-room to be transferred to her brother's flat, where, to myknowledge, the articles were needed.

  Mrs. Hillmer had gone out early, so the thing was done in her absence.Her amazement was so great that she wired me, using as a signature thepet name of her childhood, and this was the first message you heard thegroom refer to when he came a second time with the telegram fromRichmond.

  I wrote her a hurried note, explaining that I intended the transfer asa sop to her offended brother, but she had telegraphed again, and I hadto go to see her, to learn that Mensmore resented the gift, and had goneoff in a huff to Monte Carlo.

  A little later, I took the supreme step of writing a farewell letter.Since my wife's death I could not bear to meet any other woman. Icommuned with my poor Alice more when dead than when alive.

  I do not think I have anything else to tell you. Step by step I watchedyou and the police tearing aside my barrier o
f deceit. At times Ithought I would baffle you in the end. Were it not for my folly inbribing Jane Harding I think I must have succeeded.

  That poor girl was the undoing of me in the first instance, and she nowhas brought me my final sentence, for she came to-day and told me, withtears, all that happened between the detective and herself. White, too,put in an appearance.

  To-morrow, I suppose, he will bring a warrant, if you do not see himfirst and tell him the truth.

  Do not misunderstand me. I am glad of this release. When you strove toarouse me from my despair I did, for a little while, cherish the hopethat I might be able to devote my declining years to the work whichAlice herself took an interest in. But the web of testimony woven roundmy old friend, Mensmore; the self-effacing spirit of his sister, who, toshield me, was willing to sacrifice herself; the possibility that Imight involve these two, and perhaps others, in my own ruin--everycircumstance conspired to overwhelm me.

  I can endure no more, my dear Bruce. It is ended. The past is already adream to me--the future void. My poor nature was not designed towithstand such a strain. The cord of existence has snapped, and Icannot bring myself to believe it will be mended again. In bidding youfarewell I ask one thing. If you take a charitable view of my deeds, ifyou consider that my penalty is commensurate with my faults, then youmight take my dead hand and say, "This was my friend. I pity him. Maythe spirit of his wife be merciful unto him should they meet in theregions beyond the grave."

  And so, for the last time, I sign myself

  CHARLES DYKE.